


Even as our cloudy fancies take, suddenly shape in some divine expression

by themysticalsong



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-26 18:33:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 18,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1698383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themysticalsong/pseuds/themysticalsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Human AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

"Essie," she calls out, tugging her jacket close as the chill rises in the air. _Its getting colder every day_ , she thinks, _soon it’d be difficult for them to come out like this_. Sighing, she extends a gloved hand out, "come on, love, we need to get back home before it gets dark."

 

The little girl in question continues to poke and prod at whatever has caught her attention. Just like her father. Ignoring her mother’s extended palm, she bends down and picks up whatever it is.

 

"Pwetty", she breathes, looking at the thing resting in the middle of her gloved little hand. River crouches to look at what has her daughter so fascinated. The moment she is closer, Essie shoves her hand almost under her mother’s nose. If her eyes weren’t shining with utter joy of discovery, River would have laughed at how much her little girl is like her father.

 

Tight curls bouncing along pink tinged cheeks, pert little nose, her facial structure like her mother’s, Esther is a miniature copy of River, but her nature and behaviour are something else together. _John Smith.02_.

 

Gently cupping the tiny hands in her own larger ones, River looks at the smooth, white pebble that holds her daughter’s fascination at the moment, and smiles, “Its lovely, honey.”

 

Essie beams at her mother’s approval, blue green eyes shining from beneath the brown curls. Smiling, River takes the pebble from her daughter’s hands and slips it into her pocket.

 

By the time they reach back home, it starts snowing lightly and Essie insists on checking up on her snowman. The three year old is almost across the porch when River tugs her back, fingers looped in the tiny belt loops.

 

"Daddy must be back by now. Don’t you want to show him what you found today?"

 

Entire world encompassed in one question, the little girl looks at her mother with wide eyes as she contemplates and weighs her options. With one last wistful look at her snowman, Essie turns to the door, tiny fingers curling into her mother’s coat, “Daddy.”

 

Hiding her smile, River unlocks the door. Once inside, she begins the complex process of unwrapping her daughter. Flecks of snow fall to the floor as she unbuttons Essie’s parka. The little girl shakes her head, her curls bouncing free when River removes her cap, sprinkling her mother with tiny droplets.

 

"Essie!"

 

The girl giggles at her mother’s half amused, half exasperated expression, sneezing as the wool of the scarf tickles her nose when River removes it. One by one, she sticks out her hands and legs for her mother to take off her gloves and shoes. Once free, she scampers over to the tiny desk kept between her parents’ desks, with a stack of colouring books and several crayons awaiting her.

 

Shaking her head, River stands up. She picks up the small bundle of her daughter’s winter things and lays them on a chair next to the fireplace for them to dry, barely suppressing a shriek as cold fingers brush against her neck, unwinding the woolen, dark maroon scarf.

 

"John!" removing her coat, River turns to look at her husband, but before she can say anything, Esther comes running to her father with a joyful cry of "Daddy!"

 

River shakes her head, laughing at the father-daughter duo as John scoops up the little girl, throwing her in the air and catching her as she shrieks and giggles.

 

"So what did Esther Ann Smith do today? Hmm?" he asks, tickling her lightly. River shoots them a glance as she places the small pebble in a bowl full of pebbles that they keep on the dinner table, and Esther squirms because of her father’s cold fingers, a giggle escaping her as she chatters away about her day.

 

With Esther in his arms, John begins to walk towards the sofa, and for the first time, River notices the small basket on the small stool by the door. Apparently, Esther has also noticed it, because she leans away from her father at that instant, staring across the room.

 

" ‘at fow Essie?"

 

John grins as Essie points towards herself and glances between her father and the basket, and nods. The moment he puts her down, the little girl runs to the little basket, poking at it gingerly. River glances at her husband with a curious smile, her focus shifting when Essie shrieks happily as a small puppy bounces out of the basket, and into her lap.

 

" ‘ank you, Daddy", beaming, Essie throws her arms around her father’s neck, hugging him as he crouches next to her. John laughs softly, "You like it?"

 

"Yes!" The puppy looks at his tiny mistress as she nods vigorously, and then at John, his tail wagging excitedly.

 

"What are you going to name him?"

 

Suddenly all wagging and nodding stops as two pairs of eyes, blue green and black, widen. Turning to the puppy, Essie studies him with all the care a 3 year old can manage, and then stares at her mother.

 

"He look wike Daddy."

 

River doesn’t say anything, opting to watch her daughter as she tries to come to a conclusion. Her gaze shifts between her husband and the puppy. With floppy hair, and level of charged excitement he has shown in five minutes, the puppy actually does look like John.

 

_"Rory!_ " John sputters and River stares at Essie, bemused as the three year old announces her decision.

 

"Your grandfather isn’t going to be happy about it."

 

Essie looks up at her mother, and frowns,”I can’t call him ‘daddy’.” Turning to the puppy she scoops him up in her lap, giggling as he licks her face, and cuddling the puppy close, announces happily, “Rory!”

 

Throughout dinner Essie insists on keeping Rory with her, supplying him with tiny morsels from her own plate. River tries to get her daughter to stop feeding the puppy from her table, but its a bit difficult with John indulging the little girl.

 

"Must you always pamper her like this?" She glares at them reproachfully, rolling her eyes when John tickles her side lightly until she grins reluctantly, and kisses any other protests she raises, "Look how happy she is, love."

 

Its so rare that he gets to spend time with them like this- his work commitments keep him away for longer durations; even when in town, he often has to leave before Essie is up for the day, coming back only after she is asleep. In the dead of the night, when he whispers his guilt at being unable to spend more time with Essie - with her, River tries her best to reassure him, soothe him. As a result, whatever time he gets with Essie, he pampers her, bouncing around with her. Some times, it reminds her of days before Essie’s birth, when he would drag her in every little shenanigan that entered his mind. He drags her now too, but someone has to be the strict parent.

 

She checks the temperature and the number of rubber ducks floating in the bathwater, and sits back, waiting patiently. Her family doesn’t disappoint her. Soon enough, John enters the bathroom, holding Essie up above his head, presumably playing ‘aeroplane’ with her, and Rory bouncing excitedly around his legs.

 

"Up, daddy, up!"

 

She should be afraid, given her husband’s tendency to embrace gravity freely, but she knows he is extra careful with their daughter. Sure enough, he puts Essie down with a flourish, grinning as he looks at the number of ducks.

 

"Duckies!" Essie squeals as John puts her in the bath, making a splash. River laughs spraying some water at her daughter, and Rory scampers away as droplets reach him.

 

Putting their daughter to bed is an even complex task than cleaning up the aftermath of their waterfight, but she knows he loves it. Showered and changed into a warm and dry nightdress, River pours wine into two glasses, waiting for her husband to finish with the bedtime story chosen for the night.

 

"How about a tale of an adventure through space and time?"

 

River grins as she hears him trying to persuade their daughter for a different story, and reclines against the side of the sofa. She must have fallen asleep because when she wakes up, she hears a steady heartbeat under her ear, room around her dark, and John has his nose buried in her hair. Feeling her shift, he tightens his arms around her, “Can we have another?”

 

  
“I am happy with the hellion we are raising. I won’t exchange her”, she teases, laughing softly as he pinches her side lightly.

 

"I meant a second hellion", he snorts, flipping her, so he is on top of her, and nuzzles her neck.

 

"Mm. Interesting thought from someone who kicked up a fuss, and came up with a 101 reasons why not to have children when I said I was _probably_ pregnant with our first child." She feels his grin against her skin, before she feels his fingers skimming along her ribs, tickling her. Laughing, she squirms beneath him.

 

His fingers are teasing the underside of her breast when the door to their bedroom flies open, revealing the tear stained face of their daughter, a worried Rory stumbling along with her, trying his best to growl. "Daddy!"

 

Before any of them knows any better, John shoots out of the bed, scooping up Essie and bringing her to River. "What’s wrong sweetheart? Nightmare?"

 

Finally in her mother’s arms, Essie nods slightly as John runs his hand soothingly over her back. "Spaghetti monster", the little girl sniffles, and River shoots her husband a glare.

 

With a sheepish smile, he pulls Esther closer, tugging the covers up to her chin, and begins to spin a story about a clumsy, bumbling little dog called Rory, the said dog finding its perch near the fireplace in the room.

 

A hand on her abdomen, a teasing smile on her face, River reclines against the pillows, and sighs dramatically, “May be this time we’ll do things a bit differently?”

 

 

 

 

 


	2. The Thrill of Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> River re-checks the floor. Twice. Satisfied, she spreads a playmat beside her desk.
> 
> Next comes a basket of stuffed toys. A dinosaur, a giraffe, two badgers, several birds and koalas. Sometimes she doesn’t know if these toys are for their daughter, or for him. Shaking her head, she sets the toys in a precise order, tutting softly as tiny arms reach out to catch the toys and tangle in her curls, pulling at them instead. “Essie.”

 

 

 

 

River re-checks the floor. Twice. Satisfied, she spreads a playmat beside her desk.

Next comes a basket of stuffed toys. A dinosaur, a giraffe, two badgers, several birds and koalas. Sometimes she doesn’t know if these toys are for their daughter, or for him. Shaking her head, she sets the toys in a precise order, tutting softly as tiny arms reach out to catch the toys and tangle in her curls, pulling at them instead. “Essie.”

Wide, green eyes stare back at her, fingers playing with her curls halting in their tracks. River coos at the baby in her arms, shaking her head softly to say no. Essie looks at her mother once, chubby fingers twisting in her curls, and tugs at it, watching in fascination as the curl bounces back into its former shape. River sighs. Like father, like daughter. What is so fascinating anyways? Its just hair.

Apparently her daughter disagrees, because she keeps toying with it, kicking up a fuss when River puts her down on the mat.

After handing Essie her dinosaur, River thumbs through her books and files. Being a full time mother to a 10 month old is tiring. Preparing for lectures while being a full time mother of the said 10 month old is exhausting.

She glances towards her daughter. Dinosaur’s tail is being happily chewed on. She laughs softly. The joys of a teething baby. She turns her focus to her work.

Sometimes she contemplates quitting her job. Essie is not old enough to be left unattended. Even when she and John have divided their duties, its not easy. Getting up every few hours to feed, change or entertain a baby is not exactly conducive to preparing lectures and assignments for archaeology students. But John doesn’t want her to give up her career. She doesn’t know if she loves him for this or hates him.

"River, love, have you seen my white shirt?"

Definitely hates him.

Rolling her eyes, she shouts back as she gets up, “Which one?”

"The one with those stripes."

On the floor, Essie gurgles around the tail of her toy, as if amused by her father’s inability to find what is right in front of him. River rolls her eyes fondly as Essie begins to crawl towards her desk and John calls for her once more.

The moment she enters the room, John begins to complain. Without a word, River turns to his wardrobe and pulls out the said shirt. He gapes for a moment before going back to his grumbling. “Not my fault you put things in places where I can’t find them.”

Moving closer to him, River helps him button his shirt, “it was right there, sweetie. Not my fault you can’t see what’s right in front of you.”

John looks at her at that, a strange look in his eyes, and pulls River closer, his arms around her, “Well, wife, I can’t be blamed for the inability to find small, innocuous things, when years back I found the most amazing thing of my life in front of me.”

Buttoning up the last button, River murmurs, “Sappy idiot.”

"Well, that’s a bold assumption."

She looks up at his words, rolling her eyes at his teasing smile, “Husband, shut up.”

By the time River returns, Essie has found her hideout under her mother's desk.

"Where's Essie?" John asks, biting into his toast. River laughs around the rim of her cup, "On an archaeological dig, under my desk."

When she returns to her desk, River looks down to make note of her daughter's position, and resumes working. A giggle escapes her when a tickling sensation runs up her nerves, and River glances down. The dinosaur discarded to the side, thoroughly chewed and covered in drool, Essie is now focusing on her mother's toes, giggling as River wriggles her toes. Amused, River gets back to her work, occasionally wriggling her toes and smiling at her daughter's laughter.

Lost in her text, River forgets to wriggle her toes for some time. Under the table, Essie pokes and prods at her mother's feet, frowning when there is no movement. Shifting a bit, she takes a toe in her mouth. The adjoining digits and the body attached moves slightly. With the joy of new found discovery fueling her, Esther Ann Smith sinks her tiny teeth into the toe in her mouth.

John looks up in stunned silence, his knot only half done, as River limps into the room, tears in her eyes, and thrusts Essie in his lap, "You are sleeping on the couch until you teach her not to taste every new find!"

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm sort of in love with Essie Ann. Kind of expect more of her, and possibly the newest Smith in future ;)


	3. Tomorrow is ours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There were days—there were many days—these words could burn stars... raise up empires.."

 

 

 

"There were days—there were many days—these words could burn stars... raise up empires.."

John beams victoriously as his daughter gurgles and kicks her legs. He checks around. Dirty diaper in the bin; baby in her onesie - he smells her small body, tickling her tummy with his nose and smiles as she laughs - clean and powdered.

 

He sways with the baby once before laying her in the crib along the other wall of their bedroom, and lowers his voice, finishing dramatically, "...and topple gods!"

 

"Sweetie, you are not telling her the story of that post it again. I don't think you'd like if her first words are 'Hello, Sweetie', instead of Mama or Dada", River calls out from the bathroom. 

 

John makes a face and turns to Essie and mouths, 'It's our secret', grinning as she laughs once again. He then turns to the bathroom, "I am not. So very, very not. I was-I was just talking about alphabets. Yes. Alphabets."

 

" 'burn stars', 'topple gods'? I see what alphabets you are telling her about." John stares for a moment as River steps out of the bathroom in just a towel and smirks at him. He turns to Essie. Asleep. Good. Moving closer to River, he runs his palms along her waist, resting them on her hips. He watches as her eyes turn dark with arousal and pulls her closer. "Well its a great story. And really, she should know how Mama and Papa decided to get married."

 

River laughs, circling her arms around his neck, "So you wanted to marry me after that post it. I was still a recovering assassin, sweetie."

 

He doesn't say anything for some time. Pulling her even closer, insinuates his leg between hers, and nuzzles her neck, kissing and nipping, "You were. But I was in love. And only a wife can leave such notes. So, yes, I knew I wanted us to get married."

 

River moans, a low breathy noise, as John backs her towards the bed, "Essie-"

 

"..is asleep. And its been almost 6 months, River!" He almost whines into her neck, and River laughs, "Sweetie, you do realise things weren't exactly the same as they used to be before Essie?" Her hands still over his chest, "They still aren't. Perhaps we shouldn't."

 

John shakes his head, moving down her body, removing her towel along the way and kissing every newly revealed piece of skin, "Did you or did you not hear me groan about how sexy you looked", a kiss between her breasts, "with my child", a kiss on each nipple, "inside you?" River laughs breathlessly as he moves further down, kissing the marks on her abdomen, almost growling in her skin, "You have no idea how beautiful you look with all these signs."

 

"Sweetie-", River begins, but stops when a strange mix of a mewl, a whimper and something vaguely resembling a smug little chortle comes from the direction of the crib and John shoots up and out of the bed.

 

"John?"

 

When he doesn't respond, River sits up on her knees and moves towards the edge of the bed, "Sweetie?" She peeks into the crib over his shoulder as John continues to be in awe of their 4 month old. In the crib, Essie Anne lies on her tummy, and slowly, matching the dramatic flair of her father, flips back in her former position with a gurgle and a tiny fist pump which she undoubtedly learned from him. River rolls her eyes even as an excited grin forms on her face.

 

"River! River, did you see that? Did you-she -Essie -she just rolled over! All by herself, River." Her grin broadens as an excited John pulls her to his side without turning away from the crib, "I am right here, honey. I saw that."

 

"River, all by herself-", mystified and stunned, John sits down on the bed, pulling River in his lap. "Sweetie, she is almost 4 months old. A few months, and she'll begin to crawl."

 

John pales at that, his eyes widening. Tightening his arms arms around her, he turns to River, "4 months, River. 4 months. She will soon begin crawling. Then she'll start walking. And talking-"

 

Stifling her laughter, River runs her hands over his back, drawing soothing patterns as John turns to stare at the crib before turning back to her, "River, what am I going to do when boys come calling?" Suddenly his stance changes, "She is not dating anyone before she is-No. She is not dating. I will choose her husband."

 

Unable to hold back any more, River laughs into his shoulder. John scowls at her, pinching her side, "This is serious, River! We need to prepare something for when the boys come calling on our door."

 

"Sweetie, she is only 4 months old. You've got years before you need to worry about that." John pouts at her.

 

Laughing, River pulls him closer until he is lying against her, his head on her shoulder, arm around her waist, and cards her fingers gently through his hair, "If worse comes to worst, you can tell them I have a gun, and you have a- er- screwdriver."

 

"River!"

 

 

 


	4. Wished upon a star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looks ahead, shocked and dazed, as someone congratulates him, another pats his back. He had thought he is prepared for this moment. He had. But nothing prepares you for moments like these, does it?
> 
> Deep breaths.

He looks ahead, shocked and dazed, as someone congratulates him, another pats his back. He had thought he is prepared for this moment. He had. But nothing prepares you for moments like these, does it?

Deep breaths.

A nurse gently wipes River's brows and shoos him out of the room, "We need to clean her up." He nods, and with one last look at his exhausted wife, her breathing finally slowing after the exertion, he leaves the room. 

He is seated in one of the chairs outside when a nurse passes by with a tiny pink bundle in her arms. 

His bundle. 

His daughter. 

"Would you like to meet your baby girl, Mr. Smith?" He looks up, shaken out of his reverie, to find the nurse from before smiling down at him. He rasps out a weak 'Yes', still struggling to grasp the reality, and follows her to the nursery. 

Picking the squirming baby from the small cot, she lays her in his arms as he gingerly tries to follow her instructions. "Be mindful of her head. It needs support until she'll be able to do it herself. Here-", she adjusts his hands so he is correctly holding the baby. He'll have to remember to thank her later, because right now all he wants is to look at the baby in his arms, take her in, his entire world in his arms. Tears he isn't even aware of make their way down his cheeks, and suddenly there is an urge to laugh. His heart feels like it'll burst out of his chest, so full with love and joy.

He runs his thumbs over tiny digits. Counts her breaths, every rise and fall of her chest; listens to the rapidly beating tiny heart. Leaning, he gently touches his lips to the small fist. Another tear slips down his nose, and he laughs quietly.

A nurse comes to take the baby to River, but he refuses to hand her over. He doesn't want to let go of his daughter, even if its just to take her to her mother. He carries her to River himself. He only just needs a moment with his family. His breath hitches, heart stuttering in his chest. Family. His wife and his daughter. 

River is sitting reclined when he enters the room. A curious, soft smile on her face, River peeks as much as she can. His grin broadens. His assassin, his wife. The mother of his child. She looks even more gorgeous right now. 

"Are we ready to meet Mummy?" He brings his ear close to baby's mouth. A smile forms on his face as he glances at River's impatient face. "I didn't quite hear that. Could you-"

"John", River almost whinges with impatience. He grins and carefully, gently, shifts the baby to her arms. She looks up, unsure and uncertain, as he shows her how to hold the baby correctly. A watery laugh escapes her as the baby squirms and nudges at her chest. "She is hungry", he notes and River nods, speechless and her gaze still on the small bundle in her arms. She shifts, adjudting the baby, smiling as she finally latches.

His arms around her, he moves closer to her. His whole world is in his arms, and there is nothing more he needs to be happy. Leaning into his warmth, River moves her finger lightly over the small arms unconsciously reaching for her curls; her finger gently caresses the tiny fingers clenching and unclenching in a fist. Her lips part in a soft gasp, tiny fingers curling around her own. John smiles, swallowing around the lump in his throat, as he looks over her shoulder when her whole body goes rigid in his arms. 

"You are crying." River looks up at his words, a tear rolling down her cheek, her smile brighter than any star. She softly brushes her lips against his, her words a whisper against his lips, "God, I love you so much, Sweetie!"

He smiles broadly, before gently kissing her, conveying an unspoken 'thank you' with his fingers tracing her cheekbones. Pulling back, River clears her throat, "What are we naming her?"

John looks at the baby for a moment and blinks, "Esther. We can call her Essie."

"Star. I like it." River smiles at him and turns to the baby in her arms, her words a watery whisper, full of love and promise, "Hello, Sweetie"


	5. Playtime with Essie Ann

 

 

 

 

Sun rays filtering through the windows tease him awake. John blearily looks around before turning to look at his wife. It’s rare that he gets the chance to study her, or just simply look at her.

A few golden curls have escaped her nighttime braid, framing her face softly now. He smiles as he spots the few freckles dotting her nose, counts them. His other hand, quite of its own volition, begins to trace patterns on her arm.

Her warm breath makes him wonder when she will wake up. Or will it be rude to wake her up? He glares at his hand as it begins to toy with the hem of her nightshirt, moving past it, and just generally skating around on the soft skin. How had he forgotten how soft River’s skin really is.

"Hello, sweetie."

He wants to deny everything his hands are doing. Really, he does. But her sleep roughened voice pulls him in too, sending quite a good volume of the blood in his body rushing southwards.

"Hello, dear", he smiles down at her, grinning and tightening his arm around her as she smiles sleepily. He needs to take time everyday just to observe River Song during sunrise. Does she look even more ethereal at sunset? He-

"Oh, I see you are already…up." He hisses as she shifts her leg-the one between his legs, thank you very much- up a bit, and winks at him. The little stretch she does makes her shirt ride up, exposing a bit of the soft pale skin that he had been just stroking. Suddenly, the desires are just too much to be kept in check. A lazy weekend needs to be spent with one’s vixen of a wife, preferably in bed (or any other spot of your choice, just so long it’s comfortable). Leaning, he shifts them, so River is on her back, and presses against her.

"Doctor?" she moans at the contact, "Don’t you have a meeting to go to?"

"It’s Saturday", he lets out a puff of warm breath over her neck, delighting in the shiver that passes through her, "the only meetings I have-" a shift, and his body presses against hers, their limbs sliding against the sheets, "will be held here, my River."

River laughs, pulling him in a kiss, and for a moment that’s all he can focus on. Simply kissing River Song. Luxuriating in the slide of her warm tongue against his. She moans into his mouth, her hips bucking under him, reminding him of the task _at hand._ Breaking off, he winks at her, nipping at her bottom lip one last time, and begins to trace open mouth kisses along the column of her throat. He arches an eyebrow as she giggles, “Something funny?”

She tries to keep a straight face, “Your stubble. It tickles.”

Pretending to be annoyed, he leans up on his elbows, coming nose to nose with her. He playfully glares at her, “A good wife does not mock her husband’s stubble. Be good, Mrs. Smith, and let me have my devilish way with you”, and lowering himself, he begins his assault on her throat. He smirks and pins her hands above her head as she giggles and squirms beneath him, trying to get away.

"Just so you know, I plan to keep this for the weekend", he teases, grazing his teeth over a spot in a way he knows she loves, smiling as she lets out a loud groan, her head thrown back.

"And leave me with whisker burns?" she manages between giggles and moans. He frowns and looks up, running a hand over his stubble, "Am I hurting you, River? I could stop and shave it off. I was just teasing, honestly, and-"

"Oh shut up, sweetie. If I didn’t like it, do you really think I would have let you get this far?" she smiles, before twisting her wrists for emphasis, "now, my hands are tied at the moment, so do you mind…?"

He laughs softly, and resumes kissing down her neck, one long leg insinuating itself between hers, and pressing against her sex. Best way to spend a lazy Saturday.

"Daddy!"

They spring apart, sitting up as the door to their bedroom is slammed open, with a crash accompanying it as a background effect, and an obnoxiously cheerful Essie Ann jumps on the bed, little Rory bouncing near the foot of the bed. John catches her before she could jump into her mother’s lap. They were yet to tell her about the newest addition to the family. “Ah, Ms. Esther. What brings you up here this morning?”

He tickles her toes lightly and Essie giggles in his lap, managing to get out the most important word, “Hungry.”

River’s eyes widen as she looks at the wall clock, and she immediately moves off the bed. “Sorry, love. Uh- why don’t you go watch some cartoons, and Mummy will fix you something up?”

"Awkay", the little grins, before bouncing out of her father’s lap and moves towards the living room. He tugs at River’s hand, pulling her to him. His hands once again begin to trace up and under her shirt when she bats them away, "Essie is waiting for her breakfast, John. Not now."

"Fix her some breakfast and come back, then", he winks at her, tickling along her ribs, pulling a face when she pushes him away, her tone firm, "No. Nothing until Essie goes to bed."

He juts his lower lip out in a pout, and River reconsiders, “Okay, but at least let me ensure she is occupied for a long-” she rolls her eyes as he grins, -“LONG time. Alright?”

Essie Ann, however, later on proves merciless. Or so he points out to his wife.

He peeks into the kitchen. River alone, their daughter playing in her room; he tiptoes up to his wife, his arms circling around her waist. She laughs softly as he begins to mouth at the juncture of her throat and shoulder, his fingers playing with the button of her jeans, knuckles running over the crotch.

"Daddy, freeze!"

He yelps as the tip of his screwdriver pokes just above the back of his knees, and jumps away from his wife. Their daughter is too much like him for his liking.

After lunch, River informs him Essie is down for a nap, and they could have their own _playtime._ He grins and pulls her into his lap, maneuvering and shifting so she is lying against the pillows as he kisses her, his fingers tangling in her curls-

"Ewwwwwwwwwww!"

How River quickly manages to extricate herself from him, leaving him facedown in pillows in process, he will never understand. But at that moment, River picks up Essie under one arm, marching her to her room, and does not come back for another hour, ensuring that their girl duly observes her nap time.

He gradually loses hopes for the day to be as pleasant as its beginning. He sighs a lot and makes it a point to inform River grumpily about how they have bred a little monster every time Essie catches them kissing. She only laughs. And they always have the night, don’t they?

Throughout the dinner he keeps his hands to himself, moodily chewing his food. He had earlier tried to snake his hand under the table and past the zipper of River’s jeans- the unintentional teasing of the entire day had left her just as desperate as him—-and he had forgotten about Essie trying to pass morsels to Rory who was under the table at the moment.

He turns the pages of the book in his hands without even reading them- he really needs to call in enforcements— he regrets letting Essie Ann move from crib to a bed, and-

"Sweetie?"

All thoughts vanish the moment River steps out of the bathroom in a sheer dressing gown he remembers from their honeymoon. The corner of his lips curl up as she nears the bed, tugging at the ties of her gown. In two steps, he is standing in front of her, her breasts flush against his chest, and pulls her into a hard, insistent kiss. His hands move under her dressing gown, pushing it off of her, and pulling her against him. He walks them back to the bed, pushing her on it, climbing over her.

"John-", she breathlessly whimpers as his fingers skate over her sex. Lowering his head, he moves down her body, his lips leaving a fiery trail all over her as he kisses between her breasts— a nip under the curve of her breasts— nuzzling the soft swell of her abdomen blooming with a new life. She once again sobs out his name, urging him to stop teasing and just-

"Daddyyyyy!" their heads collide, both sitting up as their daughter’s bloodcurdling scream echoes through the house. Annoyed and impatient, River calls out from the bed itself, pulling the sheets up just in case their daughter decides to barge in. "Esther Ann Smith! Go back to bed right this instant, or-"

Broken out of his stupor, John shushes River, getting out of the bed. Pulling on his dressing gown, he rushes out as another scream sounds, before turning back to River in a hurry and kissing her, “Wait right there, don’t move! Don’t move, okay. I’ll just-“

He runs up to Essie’s room, his heart melting as he sees her little face tear streaked, staring in terror at the closet as she whispers between sobs, “monsters in the closet.”

He looks at the closet, and makes a show of checking it and under the bed. Ruffling her hair, he drops a kiss against her curls, “See? No monsters.”

"Stay until Essie asleep?"

Smiling, he shakes his head and pulls his daughter in his lap, telling her the story of a lonely professor, his assassin and their adventures until she falls asleep.

He sighs when he finally manages to get back to their bedroom. Curled up against pillows, covered only in a sheet, River Song is fast asleep.

He definitely needs to call in enforcements. Except how does one explain to their wife’s father the need for some alone time?

 

 

 


	6. The giraffe and the dinosaur

"8.30 breakfast- only finger foods and some puree; formula bottle every 3 hours-"

John watches in amusement, bouncing Essie in his lap, as River rambles on with some last moment instructions before leaving for her conference. Normally when River is out for work, she drops Essie at her parents'. Today, however, John has a day off, and he is determined to look after their daughter himself.

"River-"

"She will try to stand and walk - be around her, but not too close; she gets cranky, otherwise-"

"River-"

"There is a basket of her toys in our room, another in nursery, and one in living room. The list and her schedule are in your pocket-"

His eyes widen in surprise, and he checks his pockets. Surely enough, the lists and the schedule in River's scroll are neatly folded and kept in there.

"-her favourite toy is that stupid dinosaur you bought; she likes to chew on it- make sure she doesn't throw it on floor. And don't let her play with it before nap time, or she wouldn't sleep-"

John pulls a face at Essie, shaking his head, grinning as she gurgles in response, bouncing on her toes on her father's thighs.

“- and make sure she takes a nap between her playtime- it's all in the schedule, and-”

“River!” He gives her a reassuring smile when she bites her lip, looking at him, “We will be fine. We have been over this 20 times. I know, okay? I know. Don't worry. It's just some father-daughter fun time, yeah?”

Finally, and a bit reluctantly, River smiles, laughing softly when he holds up his palm and Essie slaps her tiny arm against it in a high five, “Sweetie, it's just--”

Getting off the couch, he moves closer to her, dropping a kiss in her hair, “Don't worry. Relax. It's just a day. I have your lists, schedules. If anything goes wrong, I'll call you, or your mum. We'll be fine, honey!”

“Alright.” She takes a deep breath, before looking up at her husband and daughter, “Love you, sweetie.”

He beams, a sappy smile adorning his face, “I love you too, River.”

“I was taking to Essie, sweetie, but likewise.” Leaning up, she kisses Essie's forehead before pecking his cheek, “I'll be back by 6. Be good, alright?”

He grins and nods, throwing away the lists the moment door closes behind River.

“Essie and Dada for the win, yeah?” he kisses the toddler's cheek, laughing as she reciprocates by giving him a slobbery wet kiss on his chin. “Now, mummy thinks daddy cannot take care of Essie by himself. We are going to prove her wrong today, aren't we?” he lightly sways the squealing baby in his arms, “Yes, we are. You just watch Esther Ann Smith.”

\--x--

"Okay", John stirs the spoon once again through the fruit puree, mixing different fruits once again, "I have seen your mum and your grandma make this for you dozens of times." His smile broadens as the 11 month old bounces in her high chair, slamming her hands against the tray. Carefully placing a bib around her neck, he brings a spoonful of the mash up to her lips, "It can't be that difficult. And your taste buds are just developing; how can they say you will like only a certain mix?"

The baby flashes her tiny teeth in response, grinning at her father. John shakes his head, wiping off the mash that dribbles down her chin. He continues to talk as Essie reaches for the bowl, dipping her tiny fingers in the mash, trying to eat by herself. Without warning, the baby lets out a high pitched squeal, slapping her hands into the bowl, resulting into blobs of mash being splattered everywhere.

"Essie!" wiping off the gooey substance from his face, John pulls a face at her, amused by her actions. Essie only continues to squeal...and send the blobs flying everywhere.

\--x--

With the baby fed, room, baby and himself reasonably cleaned (and changed; apparently, father-daughter bonding required some celebratory diaper change), John begins to set out her toys for playtime. He hands Essie a badger and lays down on the couch, carefully watching his daughter as she babbles, talking to the toy and moving it about.

"Gah!" After only a few minutes Essie throws the badger away. John frowns, and picks it back up, handing it to her, and watching as she throws it back again. He chuckles and picks it up. The twinkle in her eyes should serve as a forewarning, but John isn't good at reading signs.

It becomes a game between them. Essie chortles and giggles, and throws the toy again and again for her father to pick up and hand her back again.

When he realises his daughter is beginning to get bored of their little game, John tries to think of another game. Essie lets out a high pitched squeal as John picks her up, and lightly swinging her around, holds her at shoulder level, perpendicular to his body. Moving at a fast pace, he begins to make buzzing noises of an airplane. It takes a while, but soon enough, Essie begins to squeal and shriek with excitement.

Even though it takes a while, this game too becomes boring for the father-daughter duo. Finding nothing, John begins to weave a complex tale of a space travelling alien with adventures through time, using the different toys to narrate it. The giraffe plays the main character of the story, the dinosaur his companion.

\--x--

When River returns home in the evening, the first thing she realises is the silence and stillness about the house. It unnerves her a bit. With John and Essie together, it is just not possible.

She knocks at the door, but no one opens. Pulling out her key, she unlocks the door. The scene that meets her eyes is enough to stop her in her tracks. She laughs softly, taking out her phone to click a picture.

Sprawled on the play mat, with one arm curled protectively around his daughter, John lies asleep with Essie Ann drooling on her father's chest, a heap of toys surrounding them.


	7. First Rain

 

 

 

 

"Essie", River quietly calls out to her daughter, urging the little girl to turn towards the camera. John had been out for some work for days, only returning early that morning. The day being a Sunday, and wanting to let her husband have some much needed rest, River had decided to take Essie outside to play. She is too much like her father to stay put and its difficult to make a toddler understand the need for silence. At the moment, they are playing in their front yard. And as much as she hates when John gets in one of those moods to film everything from dawn to dusk, Essie's inspection of their yard is too adorable to pass.

 

"Sweetie", she tries again, carefully watching Essie as she squats to inspect a snail on the gravel. Even though her curls are pulled into pigtails, they continue to fall over her face and cover it as she follows the tiny insect. River tries not to laugh, recording every moment.

 

Sometimes she feels sad for her husband. Unknowingly, he always seems to miss out on such moments. She debates with herself about waking him up.

 

It takes her a moment to realise that her daughter has gone quiet. Really quiet. And Essie Ann is never quiet.

 

Moving aside the camera, River's eyes search out for her daughter. She suppresses the urge to smile when she finally spots her.

 

Weeks of unbearable heat have finally given in to rains. When they had started playing in the front yard, it had only been drizzling- droplets here and there. Now, while it isn't exactly pouring, it is a bit more than the drizzle it had been about an hour ago. And there, in the middle of the yard, stands Essie Ann, her tiny arms stretched out in front of her, her face a picture of concentration as she looks up at the sky.

 

"Essie?"

 

River watches in amusement as the toddler lets out a high pitched squeal before running back to her mother, her palm outstretched as if to show the droplets she has collected. Before she could even touch it, Essie runs back into the rain, giggling, laughing and making a dozen other noises as she plays with the raindrops around her.

 

"River?"

 

Turning back, River grabs John's hand, pulling him down the front steps. "Oh god, John. You were just about to miss it."

 

"Wha-"

 

He is hardly able to complete his question when Essie comes back running in, wringing her hands about and squealing as droplets land on her parents' faces, before running back out again. River turns the recording back again as John follows Essie out in the rain, picking and throwing her up as she gurgles and shrieks.

 

With Essie in his lap, John stretches out his palm. Mimicking her father, the toddler too stretches out her palm, tiny fingers almost dancing in rain.

 

"Essie", John softly calls when she once again becomes completely silent. Both the parents watch in awe as the toddler, fascinated and amazed by her first rain, continues to observe it quietly. It is unnatural to see their daughter so quiet, but it's too beautiful a moment to interrupt or worry about.

 

"Ma!" River looks in surprise when Essie turns to her, tiny hands beckoning her. Her curls limp and sticking to her face, Essie shrieks happily.

 

"How does it feel, sweetheart?" River lightly tickles her, a smile adorning her face as Essie leans back in her father's arms, sticking her tongue out and shrieking when more droplets fall on her face, "Wow!"

 

John laughs, swaying her a bit, "It's wow, alright. It's raining, baby." He tickles her tummy with his nose, grinning as she squirms and giggles happily. "Now let's go inside, yeah?"

 

However the moment he tries to carry her inside, Essie begins to squirm and kick her legs until he puts her down. She almost slips once as she tries to run out in the rain, but gets up before any of her parents could reach her.

 

"Wow!" she squeals again- a word she probably learnt from either of them- again and again and again, her tongue sticking out as she jumps and runs and dances in the rain.

 

Laughing, River hands the camera to her husband before heading out in the rain herself.

 

"Mama!" It still sometimes stuns her when Essie calls her. Like a small, beautiful surprise. River grins and picks up her beaming daughter, swinging her around in a circle. She laughs as the toddler shrieks, and raise her up in the air once, before pulling the baby back to herself and kissing her cheek.

 

\--x--

 

"Asleep?" John puts down his books, and looks at his wife, taking off his glasses.

 

River softly laughs, "Finally. I swear sometimes she has hundred times your energy levels. But today it was quick, even though she kept insisting that I let her look out the window."

 

"She did have an exciting morning."

 

River hums, sliding under the blanket and sighing as the warmth engulfs her.

 

"Wait till she experiences her first snow."

 

 

 


	8. First Word

 

 

 

"Sweetie, next month will be Essie’s first birthday. I was thinking may be we could have a small themed party here in our yard, and-"

River continues, but John tunes her out, opting to focus on the babbling 11-month old in his lap. “So, Esther Ann Smith, let’s try this again”, he smiles as Essie looks up with a wide two-toothed grin, “Can you say ‘Dada’?”

The baby gurgles, making spit bubbles. Like always. John refuses to give up. He once again suggests, moving his lips exaggeratedly for his daughter to follow, “Dada.”

"Puh!" Essie bounces on her toes on her father’s thighs, continuing with her babblings.

John sighs, but pushes on with a grin, “No, no, sweetheart. Not ‘puh’- ‘Dada’ “

Essie chortles, tiptoeing closer to her father and rewarding him with a slobbery wet kiss on his nose. John laughs when she begins to blow raspberries in his ear, and pats her back lightly, “That doesn’t even remotely sound like ‘dada’, baby.”

"You are still trying to make her say it, aren’t you?"

John looks up at River’s words to find her leaning against the wall with her arms folded in front of her. She arches an eyebrow at him, smirking as she steps closer to the father-daughter duo. He tries not to feel offended when Essie turns in his lap, tiny arms reaching out for a smirking River as she lowers herself on the couch.

Small chubby fingers immediately reach out for the loopy curls, the owner letting out a victorious chortle when River leans in and tickles Essie, the curls finally within the baby’s reach. River smirks at him, “Accept it, sweetie. Her first word is going to be ‘mama’.”

John watches as River turns to Essie, talking to her in a singsong voice- her own way of persuading the toddler to finally say ‘mama’- and laughing when she coos back, or responds with some incoherent babble.

Throughout the breakfast, Essie continues to hum or babble, or make any of the other hundred sounds she has in her repertoire- all in response to River. John chuckles as Essie plays with her food, sending out blobs everywhere as she tries to feed herself, not caring if some of it lands in the curls she so loves to tangle her fingers in.

River comes to drop him to work, before dropping Essie at her mother’s place on her way to university. Stepping out of the car, he opens the door to the backseat to bid goodbye to his daughter.

"Sweetie, can you say ‘Dada’?" 

Essie giggles and blows another raspberry. He juts out his lower lip at his wife when she chuckles at his failed attempt.  

"You are not going to do it today, are you?" sighing, John presses a kiss against the baby’s temple, and smiles, "I’ll see you in the evening, sweetheart. Okay?"

"Okay."

John shakes his head, laughing and turns to close the door, his eyes widening when the realisation finally hits. He glances at River, who only looks back at him with wide eyes before turning to Essie. “Sweetie, what did you just say?”

Essie wrinkles her nose before repeating in a tiny voice, “Okay.”

"Did she- did she just-" John continues to stare at his wife, his gaze shifting between her and his daughter. River laughs at his borderline comical expression as he stares at their daughter in awe, "I believe she did, sweetie."

There is nothing else for him to say as he grins. Not ‘dada’ or ‘mama’, but Essie looks just as overjoyed with ‘okay’.

A giggle escapes him, and he taps her tiny nose, “Okay!”

 

 

 


	9. Murder theories

 

 

 

 

"There were many theories about how she was murdered-"

 

River nodded, snuggling into the covers. 1 am. She counted fingers. Only 4 hours of sleep. 5.30 would be too late to go to bed without disturbing their schedules.

 

"-of course no one knew exactly how it happened-"

 

She scrunched her eyes shut. Sometimes it was difficult to discern who was better behaved- her 7 month old daughter, or said daughter’s father. “Sweetie, can we talk about this in the morning?”

 

"Hm? Oh." He nodded, his eyes still fixed at the text in his lap, "Yes. Of course." His focus still on his book, John leaned and pressed a kiss at the corner of her lips, "Good night, River."

 

Too tired to roll her eyes at him, she snaked a sluggish hand out to switch off the lights, “Good night, nigh-“

 

"No, but seriously, River. How do you think she died? Who could have murdered her?"

 

She turned to him with a sickly sweet smile, stroking a hand over his bare chest. Grinning, he leaned closer, prepared to kiss her, “Riv-“

 

"Sweetie, maybe someone talked her to death when she only wanted some sleep before a screaming infant woke her up?"

 

He looked horrified for a moment, before leaning back with a sheepish smile, “You want me to let you have some sleep, don’t you?”

 

She smiled and nodded, her eyes drooping shut. Curling an arm around her, he pressed a kiss in her curls, “I’m sorry, honey- sometimes I become so engrossed in these things that I-“

 

"John!"

 

He bit his tongue apologetically at her pained groan, “Sorry.”

 

—x—

 

Turning, River flung her arm across her husband’s torso, frowning as it met a small moving lump instead of the planes of his chest. She blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust to darkness. _  
_

Almost her entire fist shoved into her mouth, Essie was curled up on her father’s chest, sniffling as he sleepily stroked her back and hummed an off key  _Twinkle twinkle little star_.

 

She bit her lip against a smile, and gently shook him awake. “Sweetie, why is Essie here and not in her nursery?”

 

He briefly shot a glance at the baby presently sleeping on his chest, before laying back into the pillows, and tightened his arm around Essie, “You were asleep, she was crying. Tried nursery rhymes, but she wouldn’t stop…”

 

He trailed off, sleepy as the infant lying on his chest. Careful not to disturb him, River moved Essie from his arms, taking the baby in her lap, “Why was she crying?”

 

"Huh?" he turned towards them, tired eyes still closed, and hands once again moving on Essie’s back to soothe her, "Possibly because I don’t have the right equipment."

 

"Equipment?" River stared at him in confusion as he made a vague gesture before succumbing to sleep. In her lap, Essie nuzzled further into her, tiny curled up fist finally out of her mouth. River hissed as the unexpected baby tooth dug into her skin.

 

_Oh._

 

 

 

 


	10. A Very Dinosaur-y Birthday

 

 

 

 

"Mummy, smile! You are on the baby cam!"

 

River huffs as John follows her with the handheld camera, intent on recording every moment of their daughter’s first birthday. Right from the moment he woke up, River his preferred victim.

 

"Sweetie-", she tries once again. She had barely been able to open her eyes and he had started recording her every move in a bid to make the perfect birthday video.

 

"No, no, River", he pulls her into him, turning the camera to face them as he does so, "say hello to our baby."

 

River rolls her eyes, but acquiesces to his wish, adding in a little wave as she smiles and blows a kiss to the camera, “Hello, my little sweetheart. Even though you are not going to remember any of it, and your father is being-“, she trails off, glancing at her husband as he juts out his lower lip in a vague pout, before smiling back at the camera, “-being himself, trying to record everything at once, I hope you have the happiest first birthday ever. Happy birthday, sweetie!”

 

He beams at her, turning to the camera to say something when the bell rings. Heaving a sigh, John makes a face at the camera, before pulling the door open, the lens focused on the guests.

 

"Ah! The Ponds!" he greets excitedly, ushering them in even as his father in law protests about being Williams, and not Ponds, "River, your parents are here!"

 

"Zip it, you", he scowls as River laughs in the kitchen at her mother’s hushed, scottish tone as she scolds him, "You are going to wake up my grand daughter!"

 

He glances at River, wordlessly begging her to save him, smiling in relief when she steps into the living room, her hands full of trays filled with food. She bites her lip against a smile. As brave and crazy her husband might be, for some reason, he always behaves like a chastised five year old when her parents are around.

 

Hugging her parents, she gives him his excuse to make the escape, “Sweetie, why don’t you go and see if Essie is up? The guests must be arriving soon.”

 

John loves his in-laws. He truly does. What’s not to, really? They are both incredible. The fact that together they made River, makes them even more amazing to him. But they can be awfully Pond-ish when it comes to their daughter and granddaughter.

 

And, well, any time he gets to spend with his daughter is the best thing in the world. And she gives him one of those extremely beautiful smiles- much like her mother’s, but ones that make him feel all warm and gooey inside

 

River smiles in amusement as her husband makes a dash for the nursery, before turning to her parents.

 

“Mother, how would you like to help me in carrying a few things to the garden?”

 

 

—x—

 

 

"River", they are in the middle of setting up things in the garden, when Rory looks around before turning to his daughter, "Why is everything so....dinosaur-y?"

 

She doesn’t need to see where her father is looking to know what is holding his attention. After weeks and weeks of discussing (and shooting down some of her husband’s more ‘brilliant’ ideas), they had finally agreed on having a dinosaur themed party. Everything from the tissues to the plates, all decorations, games and return gifts- even the cake- everything was inspired and designed accordingly.

 

"Like father, like daughter, dad", she heaves a sigh, glancing towards the street as first of the guests begin to arrive, "my baby takes a lot after her father; I should probably just be grateful she doesn’t seem to have inherited his taste buds. Or his particular brand of humour."

 

"Look who’s up and finally here for her party!"

 

River laughs as Essie’s excited squeals reach her along with her husband’s voice, her smile faltering as she turns to face the duo. “Sweetie?”

 

Oblivious to the frowning faces around him, John whirls Essie around, bouncing her a bit, grinning as the toddler shrieks and giggles, joyful calls of ‘Mama’ and ‘Dada’ filling the air around them. His focus returns to his wife only when Essie squirms in his arms, keen on playing with her grandparents and her friends. “What?”

 

"A dinosaur? You dressed her as a dinosaur?"

 

Either he failed to notice her incredulous tone, or he was just that distracted by their daughter’s laughter. He only grins, tapping her nose lightly, “It goes with the theme, doesn’t it? And look how happy she is!”

 

It does, and for a moment, River loses herself in the playful roars of their tiny dinosaur as she squeals and plays with her toys, just thinking how much she would enjoy herself when allowed to have her own dinosaur cake to happily smash. She smiles, before squinting as she spots something in her daughter’s outfit-

 

"Sweetie, a dinosaur with a fez and a bowtie?"

 

 

\--x--

 

 

"A year."

 

Leaning against the tree, River smiles as John comes to stand behind her. “Time really flies, doesn’t it? Seems like yesterday-“

 

Behind her, John curls a hand around his wife’s waist, his eyes still on their daughter as she plays with other toddlers. Leaning a bit, he speaks directly in her ear, “Have I ever thanked you, River Song, for bringing me the best of the joys in life?”

 

Her gaze still on her daughter, River arches a brow, teasing him, “As opposed to the duckling you wanted?”

 

John laughs and shakes his head, “You are never going to let me live that one down, are you?”

 

"No", she laughs, leaning up on her toes and brushes her lips against his.

 

"Oi! you two!"

 

John pushes her off as Amy’s scottish brogue reaches them. River rolls her eyes, turning to her mother as she taps her foot, glaring at the couple. “Save it for after everyone leaves. We need to cut the cake.”

 

It’s comical the way John’s eyes widen at the mention of the birthday cake. He almost jumps, dragging River along with him to the table on which the cake is kept.

 

River would have probably glared, except, Essie isn’t any better. Holding the plastic knife like a sword, thankfully supervised by her grandfather, the toddler stands on her chair, roaring at the dinosaur shaped cake. The baby dinosaur grins, her tiny roars becoming even more excited the moment her mother is close enough, bouncing on her toes- a trait inherited from her father.

 

"So, Essie Ann", John picks her up once again, "ready to cut your first cake?" Essie gurgles, pausing momentarily to pull the handle of the knife out of her mouth as her mother shakes her head in a ‘No’.

 

Carefully guiding her tiny hand, John slices a small piece for Essie- small enough for her to eat without much effort- before cutting another piece for River.

 

It doesn’t take much longer. To feed some cake to his wife and in-laws, John sets Essie down on the table, and the dinosaur cake becomes the center of attention for the baby dinosaur. By the time any of the four pays any attention, the toddler is busy poking and stabbing at the cake, her dinosaur outfit covered with cake smatterings.

 

 

—x—

 

 

River shifts Essie slightly up as she squirms in her sleep. She fell asleep asleep by the time they decided to open her presents, and is currently drooling on her mother’s shoulder.

 

"You know those stains are not going to go away easily?"

 

Her gaze shifts to her husband as he tries to clean up some of the stuff lying around after the party. She lightly sways with her daughter, trying to calm the toddler as she fidgets once again. “Like you said, sweetie. She was enjoying herself way too much in this horrid costume for me to change her out of it”, she shoots him a mischievous grin, “Looks like her fashion sense takes after yours, after all.”

 

He shakes his head, laughing softly, “If it helps, her taste buds are yours.”

 

River arches a brow at him, “You tried to get her to eat fish fingers again?”

 

His eyes widen. Even though Essie doesn’t seem to have any allergies, River had forbidden him from feeding her certain things, fish fingers being one of them. He thinks it’s possibly because she herself hates them. “Uh- Spoilers?”

 

She glares at him, but stops short of shouting when Essie begins to squirm again, every movement punctuated by a tiny whimper. River coos at the baby, patting her back lightly and swaying again to calm her. She settles at glaring at her husband as he mouths a very apologetic sorry.

 

After changing Essie out of her outfit and settling her in crib, River flops down on the couch with a sigh. Next to her, John takes a sip of his tea, and makes some for her, grinning as he hands her the cup, “Some birthday party, huh?”

 

River nods, humming as she sips her tea.

 

"Tired?"

 

She leans back against the back of the couch, her eyes closed as she speaks, “Exhausted.”

 

"May be you could let me take care of it next time?"

 

Opening an eye, River looks at his hopeful face, an amused laugh escaping her, “And risk what? Mini aliens next time? Let’s share it next time, and I’ll see if I can leave you unsupervised.”

 

"River!"

 

 

 

 

 


	11. the flying dinosaurs

 

 

 

 

The urge to interrupt him before he finished was overwhelming.

 

She squeezed his hand as a signal for him to stop. Ignoring the gesture, he continued with his story, an elaborate tale about the adventures of a time travelling alien.

 

So far, his alien, the hero of his story, had stopped World War III, sassed his way out of several encounters with other species, ‘invented’ one too many things, all while repeatedly pointing out how grossly incorrect archaeology can be, and was now in middle of another ‘riveting’ and frankly ridiculous adventure.

 

"….into the hall full of guests, he flew on a multicoloured, lady dinosaur, his trusted screwdriver in his hands…"

 

That was it. 

 

"Sweetie-" 

 

Without looking up, he waved his hand. “No..shush. I’m at a very interesting point, River.”

 

River stared at his head in amusement, “Did you just shush me?”

 

This time he looked up, a sheepish grin on his face as he peered at her, “I may have. But I am telling her a bedtime story and you are interrupting me.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “A flying dinosaur is a bit excessive, don’t you think?”

 

"It’s a colourful pterodactyl", With a playful glare, he turned to his audience, "and it’s my story, so shush."

 

"And may be leave you to let your martian invent something else?"

 

He grinned at his wife’s flatly intoned comment, and tapped her nose lightly, “He is not a martian, River. And you have to agree, invention of that screwdriver was pretty cool.”

 

"What next, sweetie?" he looked warily as a mischievous glint entered her eyes, "Your alien inventing vibrators?"

 

"River!" He hissed, a scandalised look on his face as he placed his hands on either side of the gentle swell of her abdomen, "How many times do I have to say- she can hear you!"

 

"Yes", River groaned, "and she can hear you too! Multicoloured dinosaurs." Her gaze softened as he jutted out his lower lip in a pout, "Sweetie, this is the hundredth time you have woven a story with a dinosaur. At least let her chose what she is going to be a fan of. Dinosaurs are a bit redundant, anyways."

 

If possible, his eyes widened even more at that. Bending his head, he pressed a kiss against the bump, his hands now gently stroking it, “No, baby. Mummy didn’t mean that. She doesn’t know how cool dinosaurs are, yes? Yes, your mum doesn’t know-“

 

He gasped, looking up at River as he felt a movement beneath his hands, before gazing down at his hands and the baby bump beneath them, “Did she just-“

 

Equally awed, River covered his hands with hers, her gaze shifting between his face and where his hands were, “I think she did.”

 

"River", he breathed out her name, drawing it out, a bit confused, a bit awed, and quite a lot happy, "She just kicked me."

 

River let out a small laugh, threading her fingers in his hair, “She has done it before too, sweetie. Just not like this.”

 

"She did?" his face fell, "I always keep missing these moments, River. How am I going to be a good father? She is going to hate me."

 

"You didn’t miss any thing, my love", she smiled, running her fingers through his hair as he hugged her middle, "You didn’t. She always keeps moving about. This is the first time she has done it with enough force for you to feel it."

 

His eyes lit up for a moment as he beamed at her words. “So this- this is the first time, yeah?”

 

River wordlessly nodded, a smile playing at her features.

 

"So this means dinosaurs are back on table?" He grinned as the baby kicked again, "Yes, they are. Yes they are."

 

 

 

 


	12. hopes and warnings

 

 

 

He looked at his phone, turned pale and quickly left the room.

 

His colleagues watched, worried and confused as John paced the room, muttering to himself.

 

He knew his wife was unpredictable. And dangerous. It was something he had known ever since she attempted to kill him, and then saved him by risking her own life. That was- that was just how River was.

 

But this? This was a touch far. 

 

_Too far!_

 

Doing something like that and texting him after? What was she thinking?

 

He looked at the message once again. The little ‘ _xx’_  with which she had signed off incensed him.

 

His first instinct was calling her up.

 

That wouldn’t be any better than texting and telling. No.

 

Abandoning the experiment he was in middle of, John quickly drove home.

 

They needed to talk.

 

—x—

 

"What- what is the meaning of this?!"

 

John nearly shoved his phone in her face. He wasn’t angry; he only just needed some explanations.

 

River looked at him with an unreadable expression, “It’s a picture, obviously.”

 

"I can see that!" he huffed and began pacing across the room, "What I mean is - what is this a picture of?!"

 

River arched an eyebrow. “Sweetie, if I really need to explain that, we obviously have been doing things incorrectly.”

 

"River!!"

 

She rolled her eyes, looking away from him, “Well I told you I wasn’t feeling well, so I made an appointment with the doctor.”

 

He softened as she avoided his gaze, “You could have told me about it. Warned me, at least.”

 

In hindsight, that may not have been the best thing to say.

 

"Warned you?" she looked at him incredulously, "Exactly when? When I began feeling sick at work, or when your sperm was in process of doing what it is naturally supposed to do? Because frankly, I would have liked a warning there!"

 

"River!" his eyes widened comically, a horrified look on his face, "Not so loudly! It can hear you!"

 

A smile curled at her lips at his hushed tone. “That ‘it’ is our baby, sweetie.”

 

He grinned, testing the words on his tongue again and again as River handed him the pictures from the scan. His smile dimmed as a thought struck him.

 

"River", he glanced at her, swallowing, "but babies are so dangerous. They- they need constant attention, love and reassurance. And you need to be around them 24 x 7." His eyes wide, he squeezed her hand tightly, "Dirty diapers, River."

 

River laughed and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. “After two years with you, sweetie, I have all the practice I need. Rest, I am sure, we will be able to learn.”

 

"No, you don’t understand, River", he shook his head, "There will be boys when she grows up. Or girls. What will I do?"

 

"Awfully sure the ‘it’ is a ‘she’, aren’t you?"

 

He beamed before brushing his lips against hers, “A man can hope.”

 

 

 

 

 

 


	13. In your image

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a shuffling sound that he can only attribute to his daughter’s tiny feet and a groan from said daughter’s mother as she continues her quest to find whatever it is she has lost

 

 

 

"John! Have you seen my lipstick?"

 

As if in response, somewhere inside their small home, probably in her room, Essie giggles, making her father smile. He doesn’t even look up from his papers as he answers his wife, “No, dear.”

 

There is a shuffling sound that he can only attribute to his daughter’s tiny feet and a groan from said daughter’s mother as she continues her quest to find whatever it is she has lost.

 

"You do realise we are going to be late for your office party if I- are you even listening to me?!"

 

"I am. Of course, I am!" A sheepish smile on his face at being caught out, John puts aside his papers and gets up to help his wife. He grins as he spots his wife on her arms and knees, trying to look for the… _something_ , “I always listen to you, Dr. Song.”

 

"Sorry, but I’m having a hard time believing that, sweetie", her eyes scanning the floor, River replies without looking at him, "Now if you could stop looking at my behind, and help me find my lipstick…."

 

He frowns as Essie giggles again, but nods dutifully, scanning the dressing table and other surfaces for the lost cosmetic. “River, can’t you use some other lipstick? It’s just a lipstick- I’m sure you have several of those.”

 

She pulls a face, her fingers bringing one of his lost pens from under the bed, “I can, but it is the only one that goes with this dress and my red shoes.”

 

His eyes automatically turn to look at her form at her words, a besotted smile curling at his lips as he notices her dress. “River—”

 

"The shoes!" her eyes widening, River looks up, her eyes scanning the room and coming to halt at a particular spot. A sigh escapes her, "Well, this is just brilliant. Eve the shoes are missing."

 

"You can wear some other shoes, may be?"

 

Her eyeroll indicates him that perhaps the response was not good enough. “No. I want those shoes. They were your favourite pair.”

 

"The red loubotins?"

 

She is barely able to nod, before he shoots up, frantically scanning the room for the shoes. He quickly moves to the living room, ignoring his daughter’s huffs and giggles, willing to search the whole house for the particular pair. 

 

He is crouching at an awkward angle behind the sofa when River’s laughter reaches him. “Wha-“

 

"I believe I found all the missing things, sweetie", she grins, leaning against the door to Essie’s room. Bemused, John moves up to her, laughing when his gaze settles on their three year old as she tries to walk in her mother’s heels, red lipstick smeared all over her mouth, the fez sitting atop her curls slipping over her eyes.

 

Green eyes widen as the toddler spots her parents in the doorway before she makes her way to her mother at the latter’s encouraging smile.

 

"Essie wook pwetty wike Mummy?"

 

Even though addressing herself in third person is a habit River has been trying to break, she laughs softly and picks up the little girl in her lap, taking special care to push away the long train of her trench coat as it continues to droop and slip over Essie’s tiny frame. Pushing the fez off their daughter’s eyes, River adjusts it so it’s sitting at a jaunty angle, before pecking the toddler’s cheek, “Essie is prettier than Mummy.”

 

Essie returns the favour by giving her mother a particular wet kiss on the cheek, “Mummy more pwettier.”

 

John grins as he watches the exchange in front of him, folding up the sleeves of the trench coat to almost quarter of their size to fit Essie. “What about Dada? No one thinks Dada pretty?”

 

He huffs, pretending to look offended, as Essie crinkles her nose in a perfect imitation of her mother, making River laugh.

 

"If it helps, sweetie, I think you are very pretty-" He tries to maintain his pout as River pecks his cheek, finally grinning when Essie giggles.

 

"-minus the fez, of course."

 

He sputters at River’s declaration. “What’s wrong with my fez? Essie likes it. She is wearing it right now, River!”

 

Already in cahoots against him, his wife and daughter look at each other as the former studies the latter. “I’m guessing that’s because the fedora”, he gapes as River looks at Essie, who nods, as if in full understanding and confirmation to her mother’s words, “is kept at the topmost shelf, while your fez, miraculously saved from the burning you were supposed to have given it, was hidden under the bed.”

 

John grumbles at River’s smirk. “Yes, well”, he gets up with a sniff, “we are going to be late for the party. We also need to drop Essie at your parents’ for the night.”

 

Shaking her head, River makes a clicking sound with her tongue, “Who needs a party when you can play dress up?”

 

Before he could protest, Essie lets out a squeal in response to her mother’s words, effectively settling the matter.

 

 

 

 


	14. behind all stories

Her eyes searched the room full of people for a familiar face, quietly moving over each person as she tried not to give away her position. After the big argument from morning, she didn’t want him to know she was there for the ceremony.

 

A peculiar chin, thick lock of hair that had been carefully combed and gelled back in the morning, now falling over his eyes, and with extra long limbs, it was hard to miss him. Scanning through the crowd, she allowed herself a small smile as he entered her line of vision. “Gotcha!”

 

Tucking an errant curl behind her ear, she took a sip of her drink, promptly spitting it out. “Vile”, her face the image of disgust, she quickly disposed of the glass, and pulled the collar of her trench coat up.

 

A nostalgic smile graced her lips. She had memories attached to the place she was standing in at that moment, a whole other set of memories attached to the very coat she was wearing at the moment.

 

"I knew you would come."

 

She barely managed to suppress her shriek. Turning to face the source of her scare, she narrowed her eyes, “You know it’s not fair!”

 

An oh-so familiar smirk teased at the corner of his lips as he shrugged. “Can’t help it if you are clumsy enough to miss it.”

 

She huffed, but without another word, turned towards the exit, not stopping until they reached their car. For some reason, his silence bothered her. It had been ages now, but she knew, or at least had an idea about what he was thinking. She didn’t have to wait for long.

 

"Es?" It was his nickname for her. Ever since a kid, he had never called her Essie. Always Es. Or Esther. For few years now, it had always been Esther. But then, no one really called her Essie any more.

 

She hummed in response, waiting for him to speak up.

 

"Es, do you- do you think he’s proud of me? He didn’t even bother coming down here, today. And", he continued, ignoring the little noise of protest she made, "I know- I know how it is. How it as been for years. But, do you think he is?"

 

Her eyes softened. Turning to face the young boy- man- next to her, she gently squeezed his hand, “Of course, Gus! Of course he is. You know he is not good at showing how he feels. Especially not since- but he is.”

 

With a brief nod, he turned his gaze to the scene in front of them. “And, mum? Do you think mum would have been proud of me, Es?”

 

Tears pricked her eyes at the memory of the blonde curls wrapped around her fingers, little moments in which she was just Essie. Her fingers clenched into the folds of the grey trench coat- their mother’s- as if begging for strength. “I think she would have been. You were the apple of her eyes!”, turning back, she smoothed her hands over his arms, “Dr. Augustus Brian Smith, youngest archaeologist in a long, long time. She would have been immensely proud of you, Wally.”

 

She let him draw her into a hug, finally letting the tears flow. “It’s just- sometimes I wish she hadn’t gone on that expedition, Es. That library would have been just fine without her. We, on the other hand-“

 

Blindly reaching up, she wiped the tears sliding down his cheeks, “Me too, Wally. Me too.”

 

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry :(


	15. in sickness and in health

 

 

Sunlight filtering in through the still closed drapes, morning chill, and a baby monitor crackling with the sound of a 10 month old screaming at the top of her lungs. Nothing out of the usual, and yet something seems amiss. Sleepily rubbing his eyes, John frowns. A glance at the spot next to him confirms his wife’s absence.

 

River is usually the first one to wake up. Years of training and an early riser for a daughter mean she hardly ever sleeps in. It also means that he has hardly ever heard Essie scream like this so early in the morning. Grabbing his robe, he makes his way to his daughter’s room.

The absence of small details that he usually doesn’t even notice, bothers him as he pads across the hall. Shaking his head, he pushes open the door, wiggling his finger at the baby as she offers him an excited squeal.

 

"Hmm", picking up the little girl in his arms, he puts on a serious expression, "Let’s see. Not really crying, so I doubt hungry or dirty diaper. You are either horribly bored, or just wanted to wake your Dada?"

 

He sighs as she pulls her finger in her mouth, “Still not going to say it? Thought so. Shall we go look for mummy?”

 

It’s very unlike River- the silence throughout the house. “River?” he experimentally calls out, chuckling when on the next turn Essie mimics the sound, “Your mummy is probably going to gloat for ages if your first word turns out to be her name.”

  
He waits for any sort of response, pausing in his tracks as he enters the living room. Her hands clutching her robe tighter around her frame, curls limp and clinging to her face, River is nearly curled into a barely moving lump on the couch. Quickly setting their daughter down on her playmat with some toys, he proceeds to check on his wife. He flinches the moment his hand touches her forehead. “River, you are burning up.”

 

"I just need some sleep, sweetie. I’ll be fine."

 

Her words are only a little more than a murmur as she leans into his cool palm. John smiles softly, pushing back the curls from her face and tucking them behind her ear, “Hush now, wife. You are no superwoman. Sleep now. I’ll wake you in half an hour for food and medicine.”

 

With a kiss to her temple, he begins to help her adjust herself in a comfortable position.

 

"Take that back."

 

He frowns as he eases her legs from under her. “Take what back?”

 

River sniffles, sighing and sinking back into pillows as he covers her with a thin sheet. “That. That bit about superwoman. I’m a superwoman!”

  
John bites his lip against a smile and glances at Essie who gurgles in response, before shifting his focus to his wife, “A superhero who right now is in dire need of refueling. Sleep!”

  
She nearly pouts, “I hate you.”

  
Grinning, he lightly tickles her foot, forcing her to kick his hand away and pull her feet under the sheet, and dances away, “No, you don’t!”

 

  
—x—

  
Its not easy with River sick and asleep, but with a fever as high as hers, he rathers she rests properly than tackle their daughter into bathing.

 

He frowns as he checks the temperature of the water. A degree higher than River’s precise number- shouldn’t be s problem? It had taken him nearly an hour before it stopped being too cold or too hot, and as important as this is, he also needs to see that River keeps her fluids up. In his lap, oblivious to her father’s dilemma, Essie reaches for the toys floating in the water, sending a particular duck to the other corner of the tub.

  
He tightens his arm around the baby as she begins to squirm, making strange noises in protest. “Wha-? You want that duckie? You made it swim there!”

  
Essie only increases her efforts to reach for the toy.

  
John gives a small laugh, stretching his arm to pick the duck. “Okay, okay. I’ll get it. Just- just hold still. And”, dropping a kiss on the head already full of tiny corkscrew curls, he hands it to her with a smile, “there you go.”

  
This time, with all her might, Essie throws the toy to the far end of the tub.

 

"Essie!" Gently admonishing, John somehow manages to make the toy float back to them, handing it to the squirming baby, chubby hands already reaching out for the yellow duckie. Without giving him a moment to look away, Essie gurgles happily and throws the toy, on the floor this time.

  

Heaving a sigh, John shakes his head, “How does your mother even deal with this?”

 

"With patience and common sense."

 

His eyes widen at River’s voice. Baby in tow, he immediately walks up to River, his words a loud whisper, “You are supposed to sleep and rest, River!”

 

She gives a small chuckle, coughing a bit, and gathers her robe around herself, “Do you really think the way you were going, you would be able to give your daughter a bath?” Taking a bouncing Essie from him, she moves to the small stool he just vacated, “Our daughter is smart. The key is not to let her have her toys until she is in bath, or she’ll keep finding ways to prolong her bath time.”

 

John huffs, “Not like you let me have a lot of bath times with her.”

 

River grins as Essie begins to splash water on her father, “If I let you, I will never have a clean and dry bathroom, and will always have an overenergetic husband and a cranky baby to put to nap.”

 

He juts out his lower lip in a pout, but doesn’t say anything until River has dried and powdered Essie, and is set to feed her before putting her down for nap.

 

"Is it 12.30 yet?"

 

Still unhappy, but lost in observing River with their baby daughter, he throws a distracted glance at the time, “Yeah. Near about.”

 

Apparently, its good enough because River gently rouses a now cranky baby, adjusting her to feed her.

 

"Are you going to stand there and pout like an overgrown baby, or are you going to help me? She is tired enough to fall asleep in 5 minutes. Tickle her toes so she doesn’t nod off."

 

Broken out of his thoughts, he complies and kneels down next to the rocker, winking when Essie gives him an annoyed expression, trying to kick away his fingers. “You haven’t really needed my help even though you’re sick. It’s like you two don’t even need me here.”

 

River looks at him with a slightly amused look, “We don’t need you? Why do you think so?”

 

He doesn’t meet her gaze, instead focusing on Essie’s toes, “You’re sick, and yet you tell me you’ll be fine, and that I don’t need to worry. Can’t take care of my wife, can’t take care of my own daughter-“

 

"You really are as stupid as mum says", River shakes her head, gazing down at Essie before turning to her husband, "John, do you really think I would be where I am today without you? I know I’ll be fine because I know you are here to take care of us. And as annoying as hourly peppermint tea is, you are trying to care for me in the best way possible."

 

He finally looks up at that, smiling as River fondly gazes down at him, “Really?”

 

"Yes", she gives a small laugh, proceeding to burp the now satiated baby, "and, well, if you really want to take care of Essie’s things," with a mischievous smile, she slowly hands a nearly asleep baby to him before moving to the door, "why not begin by changing her diaper while I go change into some dry clothes?"

 

—x—

 

"That was not a nice stunt you pulled there", John whispers into her curls, moving his hand in a soothing motion over her back as a coughing bout hits her.

 

"Not nice, but worth the mess, wouldn’t you say so?" River laughs hoarsely, snuggling into him.

 

He smiles and tightens his arms around her. She wouldn’t ever admit, and probably kill him if he told anyone, but she loves to cuddle. Sickness somehow makes her even more cuddly than usual.

 

"Well, yeah, but you could have warned me a bit."

 

Another hoarse laugh, warm on his skin makes him reach up to check her temperature. “If I’d warned you, you would have missed it. She gives the cutest smile when she wants something done, the cheeky imp, and is at her most adorable when sleepy. Warning you would have taken time and made her cranky.”

 

"You just want me to say you were right. You were, but I’m not saying it. What you did was not a good thing to spring upon your poor unsuspecting husband, Professor Song."

  
He grins, chuckling when she slaps his arm, sniffling into his shirt, and yawning as exhaustion claims her, “Look at it this way, now you can take care of both of us."

 

 

 

 


	16. First Snow

 

 

 

 

"You see that, kitten? Look at how white it is . Like Santa's beard."

Plating the breakfast, John smiles as he watches River go through her morning routine with a very sluggish and sleepy Essie, stray sentences from their conversation - consisting of River's animated words and Essie's sleepy babble - making their way to him. The sight of furry rabbit ears against River's neck as the toddler buries her head in the crook of her mother's neck makes him chuckle. Being back with them after nearly two weeks feels good.

He bites back another chuckle as Essie rests her head on her mother's shoulder, the big ears on her cap tangling with River's curls, and her gaze fixed on her father. Making his way to the duo, he drops a kiss against Essie's cap, grinning as the little girl shakes her head, hiding her face in her mother's neck, before kissing River's temple and hands her a mug of tea. There is no real need for words as they enjoy the tranquility of a snow laden early Sunday morning-

"'noo!"

Startled, John looks around in confusion, his eyes widening as Essie exclaims again. A glance at River confirms her frowning in concentration. "No?"

Not even remotely bothered by her parents' expressions, Essie leans forward, happily repeating her word until John takes her from River.

"Sweetheart, wh-", his gaze shifts from Essie to River as the former almost squashes her nose against the glass pane of the window, tiny hands leaving their prints on the breath misting over the glass.

Leaning back, River sighs, "I think she means 'snow'."

"Snow? You want to play in snow?" an excited grin replaces his confusion as he turns to the 18 month old bouncing in his arms, before turning to his wife, "Dr. Song, we are going out to play in snow!"

\--x--

Taking Essie out in snow is easier said than done. As much as River loves snow, dressing up her daughter in proper snow gear proves to be an uphill battle. Especially with the toddler insisting on pushing off her boots the moment River moves to another foot. Putting on the mittens and a jacket is a cause for protests and tears.

It is all worth it when the toddler lets out a tiny, excited gasp as they step out. A minuscule snowflake dropping from a nearby tree settles on her nose, eliciting a happy shriek from Essie as she laughs and buries her head in her father's shoulder.

Grinning, John puts her down on her feet, laughing as the toddler, not used to walking with all the heavy clothing, trips the moment she tries to take first step forward. Before he can rush to help her up, Essie lets out an annoyed noise, placing her palms on the snow covered ground to push herself up.

River watches in amusement, reaching for the camera as Essie slips again before finally managing to stand on her own. Steady on her feet, the toddler shakes her hands and head, and slowly runs up to her father, shrieking and laughing with every step.

John laughs at her excitement, picking her and lifting her up a bit before tickling her tummy. The moment she is placed back on her feet, Essie crouches down, scooping up a bit of snow in her mitten covered palms. He exchanges an amused glance with River, both the parents observing their daughter as she studies her latest discovery intently before cheerfully raising her tiny hands towards her mother, "'no!!"

With a small smile, River brushes her lips against the little girl's fist, laughing when she mimics the action, only able to reach her mother's chin. Taking her smaller hand in her larger ones, she smiles down at the toddler, "What are you going to do with it?"

Not willing to be left out, John crouches down Iin front of the duo, grinning as Essie almost burrows in her mother's coat, and arches an eyebrow, "Snowman?"

"'noman?"

Her curious gaze and the imperfect frown are almost a miniature version of River's as the latter directs her gaze towards a group of kids building a snowman. Curiosity wars with reluctance to part with her frozen treasure as Essie moves further into River and away from John, her fists tightly clenched and clutched to her chest.

"What if", John smiles down at his daughter, "we keep your snow safe inside our snowman, kit?"

He tries not to outright laugh as Essie regards him with all the seriousness an 18 month old can manage, slowly nodding when River encourages her. " 'noman."

\--x--

"Finally down for a nap?" River lets out a puff of breath as he nods in affirmative. "She finally managed to run herself ragged." With a chuckle, River hands him a cup of tea and takes a sip of hers, "sometimes it seems like she has ten times your energy levels."

Lost in his thoughts, John only sighs. With Essie mimicking his every move, small, clumsy hands doing everything as best as they could, it had taken them nearly an hour to build a very wonky figure that vaguely resembled a snowman, and another hour to perfect it. Essie had almost instantly declared it as looking like 'Dada 'noman'. With the kind of job he had, every moment with their daughter was like a gift, and yet he couldn't help but feel-

He sighs again. Next to him, River turns to him in concern, "What-what's wrong?"

"River", another sigh, "she is growing up so fast. First word, first step, first birthday, first rainfall, and now, first snow", heaving another sigh, he nearly pouts at River, "Our baby's all grown up."

"Well, that's not right", putting her cup down, River squeezes his arm, "There are a lot of firsts still left. First day of school, first graduation, first date, first kiss-"

"Look, now-"

"-first boyfriend-"

"-River!-"

"-first time-"

"RIVER!!"

Next to him, River laughs and pecks him on cheek, "See, Sweetie? So many firsts left. Don't worry so much. She will always be our baby."

He hums and flashes her a small smile, "River, just promise me one thing?"

"Just one?" She laughs as he fixes her with a look, "whatever you want, sweetie."

"Promise me we are not letting Essie date before she is 50?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do vote for Alex Kingston in BBCA Anglophenia Fan Favorites Final, 2014. The tournament ends on January 2, 2014, at 11 am EST


	17. clicked off by time's little wheels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Enjoy this time”, the old lady at the grocery store had smiled at him once. Essie had been a few months old, and having recently discovered her power to grab things, had been grabbing every thing within her reach. His attempts to stop her from doing so had all been in vain, and the old lady at the cash counter had smiled and shaken her head at him, “they grow up so fast.”

 

Two years ago, this day, she had been a baby dinosaur, animatedly roaring in a green dinosaur onesie as she tore at her presents. The year before, for her second birthday, she was a pirate tearing apart the living room in search of her ‘treasure chest’ in an outfit her grandmother had picked out for her, complete with an eyepatch and her trusted stuffed dinosaur perched on her shoulder.

 

And only this morning, she had been bouncing with excitement over her third birthday party. She was going to be an archaeologist, like her mum! Her mother and grandmother had spent weeks creating the perfect ensemble for her – a miniature version of River’s typical work outfit.

 

“Enjoy this time”, the old lady at the grocery store had smiled at him once. Essie had been a few months old, and having recently discovered her power to grab things, had been grabbing every thing within her reach. His attempts to stop her from doing so had all been in vain, and the old lady at the cash counter had smiled and shaken her head at him, “they grow up so fast.”

 

Returning her smile, he hadn’t ever thought he would revisit the thought again. Essie was only months old, and it would be ages before she would grow up. But now, as he watches his little girl show her team their way around the ‘dig site’, he finds himself wondering just how quickly time has flown by. Only three years ago, she had been a tiny, squirmy bundle in his arms, holding his heart in her tiny fists. And now, in an outfit resembling her mother’s, and her curls fashioned in a small updo, she looks like a miniature version of River as she guides her team of tiny 'archaeologists’ through the things she has learnt from her mother. Having picked up on how her mother talks with her colleagues on days that she accompanies her to work, Essie tries her best to mimic River. Right down to the eyeroll.

 

The realisation makes his heart sink. His baby dinosaur is growing up. Soon she won’t be a babbling toddler anymore, ready to set out on her own; other activities would take over the little games she devises every few days now. His feet take him back inside the house, away from his ever growing little girl’s third birthday party.

 

Pictures adorning the nursery wall pull him in. There’s a copy of that first ultrasound from when the day they first met their child. Both he and River had their own doubts, but with the growth of their baby, every uncertainty was replaced by dreams and plans for future. A number of firsts follow, marking the milestones of their daughter’s life. It’s like watching the progression of time step by step as he relives every memory, and it is how River finds him.

 

“John?”

 

He doesn’t trust his voice anymore, his eyes trained on the two-toothed grin shining up at him through the frame on wall. “Hmm?”

 

Her gaze shifts between him and the pictures, a fond smile curling at her lips as she comes to stand by his side, her fingers reaching out to stroke the frame in front of him. “Three years”, her words are a mere whisper, just loud enough for him to make them out, “They grow up so fast, don’t they?”

 

He slips an arm around her waist; she’s warm and comforting, and the only one he’d rather share this moment with. “Mhmm.”

 

She doesn’t have to look up at him to notice the big, sad eyes. “Oh sweetie”, turning to face him, she cups his face, “she’s always going to be your little girl; you know that, don’t you?”

 

“I know, I know. It’s just…”, he pauses, looking away for a moment before meeting her gaze, “I’m a fool for crying like this, aren’t I? I was going to be a cool dad, and instead, I’m here, crying like this because my daughter is growing up like she’s supposed to.”

 

“No. No, you aren’t”, she shakes her head, “I like knowing Esther has such a sensitive father.” She adds with a small laugh, “And you are the coolest dad around. At least dad and I think so.”

 

“You do?”

 

“Mhmm”, she grins and nods, knowing how much it means to him, “Can’t imagine anyone better suited for the job. You do know how to organise a good party for kids.”

 

As if a light bulb has just gone off, John sits up straighter, his eyes wide. “River, the party! The guests! It’s so rude! We should be outside!”

 

She chuckles at the urgency in his voice, fully expecting him to start pacing any minute. “Mum and dad have taken over things”, she glances at the small clock on the table, “they must be wrapping up now.”

 

On cue, Amy’s distinct scottish tone permeates the silence around them. “River? Where do I put this archaeologist daughter of yours? she fell asleep as we were cleaning up, and-”

 

“In here, mum!” laughing softly, River calls out, before turning to him, “Are you going to be okay?”

 

“Okay?” he grins as his mother-in-law enters the room, instantly taking Essie from her, “I’m the king of okay, Dr. Song!”

 

Essie shifts a bit as he takes her from Amy, squirming a bit as she readjusts in her father’s arms and tucks her head in the crook of his neck, instantly falling asleep again, little fingers clutched around the clay dinosaur figurine he had hidden the night before for her to 'find’ on her 'dig’. A look of contentment crosses his face, and River smiles gratefully as her mother nods and exits the room, leaving the small family alone. “You know, I was thinking”, she clears her throat, surprised at the emotions flooding her, “may be we should have another?”

 

“Another?”

 

She hums and smooths a hand over the sleeping toddler’s back. “Essie is three now, and she does seem to have turned out well.”

 

A smile tugs at his lips as his gaze meets hers. Dropping a kiss to their daughter’s head, he curls his fingers around River’s, “May be.”

 

 

 


	18. the heart within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, do you have something planned for tomorrow?”
> 
> His father-in-law is one of the three most straightforward persons he has ever met – his mother-in-law and wife being the other two; sometimes he wonders if it’s a part of being a Pond – but there are times he can be one of the most confusing (and terrifying) persons, too. John stares at Rory in confusion. “For tomorrow?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesiest, sappiest offering I could come up with for Mother's Day (UK)
> 
> [there is also a 1092% possibility this is trash. I haven't written in ages, and my words are rusty.]

 

 

 

 

A gasp leaves her throat as River gently opens the golden box. “Mother-“

 

“Do you like it?”

 

Unable to look away from the delicate pendant necklace encased in the box, she simply nods, “It’s beautiful.”

 

Amy grins at the awed expression on her daughter’s face, carefully taking the ornament from her hands to put it on her. River’s fingers automatically reach up to touch the small pendant. Amy feels her smile broaden. Between losing their little girl, and finding their grown up daughter once again, there was a lot of missed time, lot of birthdays and Christmases and graduations that they had missed, and now that she was with them again, they wanted nothing more than to pamper her endlessly. She drops a kiss in her curls. “Your father and I - we wanted to do something to mark your first mother’s day-“

 

Her eyes still on the mirror, River smiles at her mother, “But I’m not a mother yet. Still got a few months to go, mum.”

 

“Pssht. You have, what, about four more months to go?” her eyebrows furrow, and River tries to stifle her chuckle, “You are more than a halfway there. You are already a mother. And, no, don’t argue with your mum on this, Melody.”

 

This time she does let out chuckle getting up to hug Amy. “Thanks, mum.”

 

“Happy first mother’s day, darling”, Amy laughs as they separate, “Now let’s go save your poor husband from your father. I think I heard something break.”

 

\---

 

“So, do you have something planned for tomorrow?”

 

His father-in-law is one of the three most straightforward persons he has ever met – his mother-in-law and wife being the other two; sometimes he wonders if it’s a part of being a Pond – but there are times he can be one of the most confusing (and terrifying) persons, too. John stares at Rory in confusion. “For tomorrow?”

 

Rory arches his eyebrows at him, looking at him meaningfully, and John feels his fingers reach for his chin. It’s a nervous tic, one that he has been trying to get rid of for ages, but it seems every time he gets a feeling he has done or is going to do something wrong without even knowing, his fingers reach for his chin, scratching it nervously. “Well, uh- since River and Amy are planning to spend the day shopping and celebrating Mother’s day, I am thinking, may be, I could work on the nursery, and, uh- sleep?”

 

“Basically, you don’t have a plan?”

 

“Plan for what exactly?” Answering his question with another isn’t the best approach while talking to his father-in-law, but there is suddenly a very terrible feeling gnawing at his insides that John finds hard to ignore.

 

“River’s first mother’s day, John. It’s mother’s day tomorrow.”

 

Oh.

 

_Oh._

 

He nearly drops the cup in his hands. “Baby is not born yet”, John lets out a nervous laugh, “We wouldn’t be celebrating until next year.” And then, a little slowly, “Should I plan something for tomorrow?”

 

“You better.” Rory indicates towards the direction in which Amy and River had disappeared nearly fifteen minutes ago, “Amy is in there, probably giving River her ‘first mother’s day’ gift now. Tomorrow’s trip is a celebration of mother’s day, but it’s for both of them. So, I suggest you better come up with something, and soon.”

 

He has never been great with plans, not ones made for celebration anyway. Occasion like this deserves something special, and there is no way he can come up with something in the short time between today and tomorrow.

 

His heart sinks as he notices the pendant necklace resting just below her neck, the fear of being a lousy husband to her too great, but the sparkle in her eyes makes him want to scale great heights for her, and he knows he is going to do everything to make the day memorable for River Song.

 

\---

 

Except, the greatest plans have a way to go awry, and his non-plan is doomed from start.

 

River’s returning-morning-sickness wakes her up hours before him, and he finds her puttering about in the kitchen by the time he is up, breakfast ready and already on table. So much for letting her sleep-in and surprising her with the first meal.

 

He plans to get her flowers after breakfast, and those chocolates she has lately been craving so much. Picking flowers isn’t difficult, but finding the chocolates takes him time. By the time he is able to find them, he has forgotten the flowers in one of the stores, and by the time he gets them back, River is nearly out of the door, ready to spend a day pampering and being pampered by her mother.

 

He puts the flowers in a vase and chocolates on the kitchen table. He still has her night, doesn’t he?

 

\---

 

That doesn’t go much according to plan either. Nothing really ever does.

 

Deciding to get an early start to avoid messing up, John quickly makes a list of all that River could have without feeling the need to throw up. It isn’t much, not even remotely fancy, but it’s workable.

 

River should be home by 7 – there is no need to start cooking before 5. With that in his mind, he sets to prepare the ingredients, grouping them in accordance with their recipes.

 

Next he tackles cleaning and setting up the table. Except for a little confusion over which cutlery to use, all goes according to the plan, and for the first time since the previous night, he feels a smile curve his lips. This is the special thing he can do.

 

Feeling a bit relieved, and slightly more confident than the night before, he mixes up the batter for a cake – River’s favourite, and one which, thankfully, wouldn’t trigger her nausea. He could easily complete this, and then work on the nursery. They’re close to finishing it, and it could be another little surprise for his wife if he manages to do it today.

 

This kind of buoyancy feels unnatural. There is a niggling fear in his mind – with few hours still remaining, there is still a window for him to screw up.

 

Pushing away the negative thoughts, he quickly sets the mixture aside, to be slid into the oven when he starts the dinner, and moves to work on the nursery. He could work for an hour, then take a shower, and start on dinner. He can do this.

 

It takes him more than an hour, but the nursery is finally finished. Stepping back to admire his work, he reflects on the past months, feeling more excited for the upcoming months by the moment. His hand subconsciously pats the small box in the pocket of his sweatpants, a smile on his lips as the thought of River’s reaction and visions of River with a little curly haired girl toddling around her fill his mind.

 

A clock chimes in the living room, snapping him out of his thoughts. He checks his watch – a little over 5. His eyes widen as the panic from earlier in the day starts to set in once again. Quickly clearing up the mess, he makes his way to the kitchen to start on the dinner. Showering can wait.

 

\---

 

Coming back to a still house isn’t something unusual for River, but it isn’t something she expected today. She tries to fight back the vague feeling of disappointment that claws at her heart. While she may have claimed to her mother it was okay if John didn’t do anything special for her today, clearly there was some part of her that wanted him to acknowledge this day in some manner. Pushing that part of her away, River pulls out her key to open the door. “Sorry, kitten”, she sighs, rubbing a hand over her side, “May be we’ll celebrate next year when you’re finally here?”

 

The faint smell of burnt cake is the first one to greet her. There is also a very appetizing aroma hanging about, but the burnt smell is the one to register first. Worried, River reaches for the switch to turn on the light, her gaze zeroing in on the figure slumped over the kitchen table.

 

“John?” her heart thumps wildly, the few seconds between shaking him awake and him actually stirring being some of the scariest seconds of her life, “Sweetie, are you alright?”

 

Her eyes scan his face, checking him for sign of anything wrong, as he blinks back the sleep, finally fully awake.

 

“Shit! The cake!”

 

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, followed by amusement, as he nearly jumps up and immediately goes to check the oven, letting loose a string of curses that she hasn’t ever seen him use as he pulls out the now-completely-black cake. A broken expression takes over his features as he puts the cake down on the counter and refuses to look at her. “I’m sorry, River. I’m so, so sorry.”

 

“Sorry?” River bites back a smile, reality dawning as she takes in her surroundings – the table set for a romantic dinner for two, a box of chocolates; it isn’t mistakable. “Sorry for what?”

 

“For being a lousy husband”, his mouth seems inches from forming a proper pout, a look of pure misery on his face as he waves his hands, “I wanted to do something special for you today. I appreciate all that you do, _are_ doing. I really do. And I wanted to show that appreciation. But I screwed up.”

 

“Oh sweetie”, taking his hand she tugs him closer until he is sitting in the chair next to hers. It is a bit difficult to stand and discuss when there is someone sitting on your spine 24 x 7. “It’s okay. It's still very sweet of you to try doing all of this.” She strokes his cheek, fondly smiling at the streak of light blue paint that is a dead giveaway of what he did with his afternoon, “So, thank you.”

 

A small, self deprecating smile finally makes its way to his mouth and eyes. “Hold that thank you. I still haven’t given you your gift.”

 

“A gift?” He nods, pulling out the small box in his pocket, as River grins, “Someone is getting fancy.”

 

Fondly shaking his head, John opens the box and hands her the delicate pendant necklace inside it, “I - I got this for you the same week we found out. You were looking at wedding rings with Amy, and I was just-- this was in one of the showcases, and it made me think of you and our baby – the little heart inside the bigger heart - and I thought-“

 

“John”, there are tears in her eyes when she finally looks up from the two hearts, “shut up for a moment, please. This is beautiful.”

 

“You like it?”

 

“Of course, I do”, she lets out a small laugh, a tear escaping her eye in the process, “It’s just – it’s perfect.”

 

He smiles, taking the necklace from her hands, “May I?”

 

River nods, smiling as he hooks the chain behind her neck, when a tiny green corner peeking out from under the plate catches her eye, “What’s that?”

 

“What’s wha – Oh”, she watches as he pulls out a card, giving it to her with a sheepish smile, “Um- it’s something from the baby.”

 

“From the baby?”

 

“Yes”, he adopts a very matter-of-fact tone, “She told me last night to give it to you this morning, but I forgot.”

 

River stares at him, wondering what he’s getting at, and carefully opens the card to find a small poem written in a childish scrawl - one she identifies as her husband's attempt at writing with left hand:

 

 

_“Roses are red,_

_Violets are blue,_

_Happy Mother’s day, Mummy,_

_I can’t wait to meet you.”_

 

“Oh John”, the tears are back in her eyes, her smile bright as she looks up at him, moving closer to kiss him. She smiles against his mouth as the baby kicks again, breaking off with a chuckle and grins as she finds a matching smile on his face. “Yes, thank you, honey”, bending a bit she pats her abdomen lightly, “Thank you to you too for this beautiful gift.”

 

“Happy Mother’s Day, River.”

 

“Thank you, sweetie.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
